


take me to the skies

by addove



Series: Linked Universe (AU) [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Linked Universe, Linked Universe AU, Memory Loss, Recovery, found family trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 08:21:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18205937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/addove/pseuds/addove
Summary: back to a home I wish to find.





	take me to the skies

**Author's Note:**

> no trigger warnings this time, i promise.

He felt the emptiness consume him faster than he ever wanted to admit, the quiet silence burning his skin and the tears that stained his eyes breaking his heart, the wind stabbing him like icicles and every single movement and sound and smell and touch killing him slowly. He felt the cold enter his system and overtake the controls, ice cold despair running through his veins just as thick as blood.

He didn't know why this happened. Maybe it was the way his heart seemed to freeze at the sight of a little girl staring back at him in a dusty old picture or the quiet laughter from Wind that made him pause and made him wonder what he had forgotten that burned him so badly. Maybe it was the glass that pricked at his fingers from the old frame he held or his own face that smiled at him as if his past self could see his present self through the time that held them apart.

Two different people, one face. Sometimes Wild wondered if he was ever a single person. Once a knight, graced by the entire kingdom with a home and a family and memories of his own life, with people who loved him and a destiny that was put on him when he knew exactly who he was, what he needed to be. Now he was lost, a shell of a former self that seemed to pick up the pieces he could and make something out of that. Now he was something else entirely, the definition of lightning flowing through veins and power exploding out of fingertips. He was more free, more lost, more full of love and life and hope, but he was also full of something that he had forgotten, an entire different version of himself lost to time.

Two different people, one face. It was clear to Wild, now, that he still had so much that he didn't remember and so much he could never get back.

A family that stared back at him through a broken frame, the little girl standing close to Wild and full of life, a life that… she must have lost.

The first time he remembered something he realized it wouldn't come back to him slow and steady, or even hit him as quick as whiplash. His memories didn't return like he wished they did, but instead they came back as if he had never forgotten them in the first place. Wild would wake up and realize he just knew about Mipha, he never remembered her. He would stop cooking to think so fondly of learning culinary from his mother, even if he didn't remember her. Wild would look at the sky and think of memories he didn't think he had, of a life he thought was gone.

And, in a way it was. He knew that, from staring at an old photograph stained an age-old brown with tears at its edges and covered in dirt and ash and from the way he felt as if the life he remembered wasn't his anymore, wasn't what he had made out of nothing and certainly wasn't what he wanted anymore. He wanted freedom and he wanted to be carefree, to be loved and to find his own family and his own life. He wanted to find something worth living for. He wanted to go home and for the emptiness that took a hold of his heart to finally disappear. Wild wanted for somebody to keep him close and tell him _"it'll be okay."_

He truly just wanted to go home.

The shifting of glass pieces behind him stirred Wild out of his thoughts, and he turned quickly to see Time trying to take a cautious step forward. Wild knew he shouldn't run, he shouldn't run away from his problems again, but he couldn't help it. The fear that settled so deep it hit bone, the ice that ran through his blood, the terror that kicked at his gut made him run. The fear made him run. He was so scared, just enough to run away from even the first sight of a problem he felt like he could escape from if he just ran fast enough.

He couldn't help running, ignoring the voices calling out for him and disappearing entirely. He couldn't help running until his legs gave out underneath him and he couldn't breathe. Wild couldn't help laying in the grassy clearing he collapsed in for hours, even after he had finally caught his breath.

Nature always made him feel at ease for some reason.

Maybe it was the wind that tickled his skin and swept through his hair, feeling like freedom even on the harshest of days. Maybe it was the sun gracing his skin and keeping him warm, making him feel safe even after a terrible nightmare. Maybe it was the moon and her beautiful glow, a light in the midst of a lightning storm. Or maybe it was the rain that hit his skin or the grass that guided him as he traveled. Maybe it was the birds that sang with him or the peace that kept him safe and content and at ease.

But, oh, it was most definitely the stars. It was their beauty shining in the darkest of nights, lighting his way when he was stuck in a million nightmares at once. It was their magic, granting the hope of wishes and life and safety as they watched over him. The stars, how they shined, kept him safe. Wild knew that.

He also knew that running wouldn't solve his problems. Wild knew that staying out here would never fix him, it would never take him home. It would never remove his fear or help him find himself. It would never give him what he wanted, but he did it anyway.

So he ran, always, and he let everything overcome him. Wild let the fear consume him, he let the hope fall and sink away into the farthest corners of his mind. He let himself feel lost with no sky to guide him. He hated it, he most definitely hated it, but Wild never did anything to fix it.

And every time he did, he hated everything even more.

He hated how lost he was, how terrified he was of the darkness he spent his life in. He hated how scared he was of falling, of failing again, of losing battles he has never won before. He was so terrified of never being able to go back home, to be at peace and be content again, because he wasn't quite sure he had a home to go back to.

He hated how scared he was of just being alive, of being alone. Sometimes he believed if he sat quiet enough and sat still enough he could feel the peace he missed so much, that maybe he could imagine being at home and being content and being loved and free and cared for once again. Sometimes he thought if he thought loud enough somebody would hear him and somebody would help him, that somebody would tell him _"it'll be okay."_

It was such a huge feeling of longing for a place Wild never had. Not in this lifetime, anyway.

And he knew it wasn't his place to wish for home. He knew it wasn't his place to be so scared of the world, to be afraid of the dark, to shake at the thought of waking up alone again. This was the world he had created by leaving it behind, by failing, by dying. The fear that stabbed at his heart and the terror that flooded through his veins was what he deserved, it was something he felt he needed because without it… what would he be? What would he end up as?

The fear didn't leave him for a long time.

Wild didn't know how long he had sat there, watching the clouds move by and the sun set and the moon rise. He didn't know how long he sat underneath the stars or in the light drizzle of rain. He wasn't quite sure he cared, staring at the horizon for hours and hours, listening to his thoughts and begging for them to quiet down, even if they never did.

It wasn't until days after he had run away before he heard someone shouting for him to come back, wondering how he so easily disappeared when he needed to.

"Wild?" Time asked, peeking around the corner of a tree to find Wild laying down in a small grassy clearing.

From the way Time froze at the sight and took a deep breath before taking another single step forward, Wild guessed he had thought the worst had happened to him.

He didn't know why he began to speak.

"When I die I hope the last thing I see is the stars," Wild said, closing his eyes as he felt the wind push at his skin. "I feel safer looking at them."

But not entirely at home.

Time didn't respond, choosing only to cautiously step into the clearing and sit down next to Wild, a few feet of distance separating them.

He didn't know why he kept speaking.

"When I… when I remember things, it doesn't come all at once. It's like… like I never forgot in the first place." Wild took a deep breath, opening his eyes once again. "For some reason, it hurts more that way. It's like… I never forgot them, but I did. I forgot everyone and I…"

He ignored the way his voice broke at his last few words. "I forgot the home that I used to have." _That I lost._

The silence that stretched between them wasn't noted, it just seemed to sit there comfortably to fill in the cracks Wild had left behind.

If Time didn't know what to say, Wild didn't blame him. When he talked he never thought about what he was saying or why he was saying it. He only said what he wanted to, what he felt like he needed to at that moment. And right then, as he sat under the stars, flooded in a quiet terror and a loud sadness, Wild felt like he needed to speak, like he needed someone to lean on.

He didn't know who else to turn to.

So Wild sat up, turning to Time but keeping his gaze steady on the ground. He didn't know why he began to speak again, but he did it anyway. It was like a need picking at his skin and making him restless, a silenced guilt that ate him alive and left nothing but an empty void in its wake.

To keep it at bay he continued to speak.

"I… don't want to be here," Wild said, fidgeting in his spot and playing with his thumbs. "Sometimes I wish I could… I could go to sleep and dream, because maybe I… maybe I would be at peace then.

"The shrine wasn't… it wasn't like sleeping. It felt like I was awake the entire time, like I was sitting in the dark for a whole century, staring at the ceiling of a small room fixed for me to rest in. It was like a tomb." Wild said, ignoring the panic that began to swell up inside of his chest. The clearing began to feel too small for him. "I don't… even know why I'm saying this, there isn't a point to it."

"You don't have to speak if you don't want to." Time said, speaking up for the first time since he's made it to the clearing. Wild shook his head in response, tugging at the ends of his shirt.

"I just… I want…"

He didn't really know what he wanted. Maybe he wanted his family back, or the feeling of love and care being pushed at him like it had been oh so long ago. Maybe he wanted to fix his mistakes, to learn to be free and live with what's been done, with what should no longer bother him. Maybe he wanted to leave behind his empty feelings and his fear and be free again. Maybe he wanted to be himself again. Maybe Wild just wanted something he's lost, maybe he just wanted someone to tell him _"it'll be okay."_

"Home." Wild choked out, shoulders sinking as his walls finally came crashing down. "I want to go _home_."

He didn't want to cry, not really. He didn't want to feel his body shake with every sob and he didn't want to hear him try and choke out words every time he spoke. Wild didn't want to feel that stinging sadness in his chest that stole away his air and kept his heart from being true. He didn't want to feel so helpless, so lost, so hopeless.

This wasn't the Wild he wanted to be, the Wild he always was.

It was something else entirely, as if his heart was finally telling him it's okay to let go.

"I want to go home and I don't… and I don't want to wake up because I know it'll all just be a stupid dream." Wild said with his voice drowned out with his sobs and words falling back every time his voice cracked.

His head fell into his hands, trying to rub away at the frustrating tears that wouldn't stop falling, trying to cover his face from the mess it was in. But Wild still cried, lost in thought as he said one final sentence before fully falling apart, all thoughts falling with the tears in his eyes.

"I want a home to go back to."

Time didn't know what to do, Wild noticed, except bring in the younger hero for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around Wild and losing his fingers in Wild's hair. The contact was needed, the only comfort he had in a ten-mile radius.

Every other word he had meant to say seemed to disappear, lost in the sobs that echoed through the night and that were carried through the gentle wind. The forest around them stilled in response, as if mourning along with Wild.

He felt safer underneath the stars. He felt at home in Time's arms, a feeling he has longed for so long, for so many years and endless months, for so many sleepless nights and silent days. Wild's wished for home for so long, he wondered if it was truly this easy to find it, to find family.

"I'll be your home." Time whispered, setting his chin on the top of Wild's head. "Twilight, Wind, Four, Legend and Hyrule and Warriors, and Sky, too. We'll be your home. You can come back to us."

It only just then sunk in how Wild… already had what he wished for, even if it didn't feel like it. Even if the void in his chest made him feel lost and the sadness consuming him felt as if it was a burden to even wake up, Wild already had a home. He had a family, he had somebody to come back to. He had people to come back to. Even if it doesn't exactly feel like home just yet, it was still a place he could always return to. It was always a place he could feel safe and loved and free.

He just wished that new knowledge would have stopped his tears instead of making them fall even more.

At least the fear seemed to disappear for now.

That's what home felt like.

**Author's Note:**

> this is based on something that's still keeping me hollow. i still don't know how to convey my feelings at all so i just... wrote everything i felt, said everything i needed to say through a character i relate to more than i could an actual person. i'm sorry if it bugged you or if it felt out of character, it's the only way i knew how to say what i needed to without actually... saying it. maybe this was made more for me than for you, kinda like a therapy thing i guess? something to make me feel better.
> 
> thank you for reading, i truly appreciate it! promise i'll update my actual long fic soon instead of random oneshots.


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